


David, Daniel, and Bryan are afraid of dicks and black women & thats why we never see any.

by Ollyoxalls (CharmingWithNoTitle)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Rickon Lives, and everything is wrong, bc the show can eat my ass rn, im going full au, its so bad, so imma fix it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-06 08:16:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11596656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharmingWithNoTitle/pseuds/Ollyoxalls
Summary: Jon Snow must convince the Dragon Queen and her allies, and his allies- the wildings, of his claim to the North. The easy and fast way of binding marriage is dangerous and proven flimsy during war. The legal and divine ties formed may not last, but neither may the men fighting, or stone buildings they hope to fortify against an undead army. "In a world" where men are made of ice, and barren mothers are immune to flames-who will live and thrive, and who will die and burn- an angry rush job, a redemption arc for the redeemable, a rational rewrite here or there, and basically a band-aid for the mess that is the tv show.





	1. What Went Wrong

"When did I choose the wrong side"? Jon lamented, as wildings and watchers alike prepared a fire to burn his hanged brothers.

"Im starting to think theres no right side to this fight." Davos Seaworth replied as he eyed Melisandre, as she prepared potions that would keep the fire burning long enough to char the bones of the sworn men, and the slain child.

"Theres a right side to the wall though." Dolorous Edd, added lightly.

"That all depends which side you're looking down on, and the horizon you face." the maester replies, holding out a rolled paper to the Lord Commander.

"You have received half a dozen southern letters; i started leaving them on your desk, but the they've started to pile up." the maester tried not to sound admonishing, but the large age gap still left him treating Lord Snow like the child he saw him as.

Jon burned Cersei's demands for bended knees, and replied to a sealed letter from Theon Greyjoy of all people. Jon wrote back to the boy he used to spar with and after speaking to Sansa, invited him to the wall.

Theon rode north seeking forgiveness; and marched south to Winterfell with the power of the Vale and a man raised from the dead by a god made of flames. 

As the bolton bastard held the youngest stark in hand, Theon used the wilding long bow he started training with to pierce the prick through an eye; the powerful bow sending the heavy arrow through the bastards skull.

A wolf the size of a horse with a shaggy coat broke rank on the watchers side, and picked up Rickon and carried him to safety. The Battle of the Bastards saved the royal seat of the north, and its heir.Theon found forgiveness from the Stark family, and rode west to protect his only blood sibling.

Molestown was too cold for the few residents left, and Lord Rickon Stark of Winterfell took them into the ruins of his ancestral home. Jon set about cementing the promises of the wilding to the north.

As Jon watched Theon's horse disappear distantly to the west, he noticed another horse approaching from the south. Jon drew his sword, ready for the worst, and dropped it into the snow as his eyes met the grey ones that approached.

He had assumed his baby sister dead. The girl who puked on his cloak as an infant, and again at 9 when she first tried wine with only the supervision of her siblings. His mind raced with memories, and as they all tried to force their way out of his mouth; he succeeded only in staring in amazement.

Arya Stark lept down from her horse with the skill of a trained combatant, while Jon stumbled slightly under his heavy cloak in his rush to get to his sister. Jon had forgotten how warm the north could be, and was reminded in the simple action of his sisters desperate hug. He remembered in that moment.

"I thought you might not recognize me- You saved Winterfell? and Rickon?" Arya cried only slightly less than Jon, but they both were reluctant to end the hug. Instead Jon held her to his side under his cloak to preserve their shared warmth. He led her to her horse, preparing to ride north to Winterfell again.

"The north remembers." was Jon's quiet reply. Arya drew a thin blade from her side and smiled sadly at it, and then grinned up at her brother.

"I tried to remember everything." Arya said sliding the sword back in place and hugged Jon tightly before he helped her into her saddle. Jon grabbed his sword from the ground and mounted his horse and lead them up the northern portion of the kingsroad to Winterfell.

"It'll be different than you remember." Jon said as he tried to catch up to Arya's excited pace.

He thought back to her wild hair as a child, and the way it flew behind her when she first started learning to ride. She rode better than most bothers of the nights watch now; Jon began to question his sister's experience as he chased after her, and what her life might've been like with no one to look after her.

"What was that?" she called back, to him. She was too absorbed with the idea of seeing Winterfell in the horizon, seeing Rickon as a lord, and seeing Sansa outside of her nightmares.

"Its different than you remember." Jon said as they came through the half ruined Lords Gate.

"War will do that." She said unsurprised. Instead she moved to tie her horse in the stone stables, while Jon struggled to keep up.

Arya barged into the hall, where Rickon sat holding court. She climbed the stairs uninterupted and hugged her baby brother so tightly she lifted him from his seat. Neither of them cried, and instead laughed as Rickon returned the favor by picking up Arya in another tight hug.

Sansa stood slowly in disbelief next to a seated Alys Karstark; Jon walked over to the two ladies amid the silence of the hall.

"Arya!" Sansa suddenly found her voice, as Jon toughed her arm lightly. Arya turned quickly enough to snap her neck, and found the grey eyes and red hair of her favorite sister.

They exchanged no words and ran to each other, hugging for what felt like an eternity and mere seconds. Rickon reluctantly pulled them apart and led them to the smaller empty hall where they ate every meal as children. Jon invited Alys Karstark to join them, while he struggled to formulate a potentially heartbreaking proposal to save the north.

Sansa and Arya didn't cry at all and instead immediately started teasing each other, laughing and holding hands and touching arms all the while- mostly to feel the realness of one another.

"You've got bigger teats than old nan, now! I dont know how you can hold yourself so upright, you're thinner than a post." Arya said holding Sansa's neck, as her elder sister leaned into the touch of Arya's dirty hands.

"You dont know because you've got none at all! And your HAIR! Gods! Its shorter than Jon's now!" Sansa said mussing Arya's hair, they way she did when they were young.

"Rickon get over here-" Sansa said grabbing her brother by the shoulder, and pulling her two baby siblings into a tight hug.

"As much as i want to stay here forever, i have to go play Lord and talk restoration to the other northerners playing lord." Rickon said miserably, extracting himself from the warm press of his family's love.

Rickon passed Jon and Alys, on his way out; while Jon lead Alys to meet his sisters.

"Arya, this is Lady Alys Karstark; the heir to Karhold. Alys, this is Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell." as Jon made introductions, Arya eyed the skinny frightened girl, and vaguely remembered the young Karstark lords of her youth. If Alys was the heir, than her family must have been lost to the war- as Arya thought her own had been. 

They spoke of war, and loss, and marriage. Counting the dead, the living, the ruins, and the forts; three girls and a boy outlined a plan for war. Arya and Sansa had no wish to live in the stone ruins of their memories; only recalling the dead that once lived there. Alys accepted Jon's proposition to wed Rickon and be Lady of Winterfell, feeling the same about Karhold. Sansa led Alys back into Rickon's court, leaving Jon to speak with Arya- something he had discussed with Sansa before.

Jon offered a marriage to his baby sister to a man who might become lord and rule a keep. Jon Snow offered Arya a wilding husband, and Karhold; to keep the peace in the north between the wildings and the northern lords. Arya reluctantly agreed, under the stipulation that she would still be able to fight in the coming war. Jon eased her discomfort, assuring that her wilding betrothed would only love her more for that.

Arya walked back into the hall on the arm of her brother, and followed his finger to spot the man she'd marry. A giant burly thing, covered in tremendous amounts of red hair; Jon named the lumbering creature Tormund Giantsbane.


	2. Winterfell, and The Wall

Arya thought to ask Jon to spar in Winterfell's yard before he rode north to the wall with Sansa and Alys, but knew they had a war to plan. Asking Rickon to spar instead, she hesitated in fighting her baby brother but continued to send him sprawling to the icy ground; encouraged only by how quickly he got to his feet and charged at her again. She offered advice on stance and sword grip, but her brother fought wildly; a style all his own, or so she thought.

The cold air froze her sweaty shirt to her back as she hid from the falling snow under the newly built wooden walkway around the yard. She sharpened needle, and watched the wildings Jon left in Winterfell spar. The sweaty hairs at the nape of neck quickly froze and scraped lightly with her movements.

Arya recognized Rickon's own wild fighting style in wildings, and wondered how he had spent the war. She realized her remaining family must think the same of her. She'd ride to the wall with the wildlings to help man the wall, later in the day. Arya tried to forget her departure and cherish her time with Rickon; they swam in the godswood hotsprings and prayed quietly together.

Rickon's hair was longer than some of the wildings and longer than Arya's, now. He'd asked her cut it, and despite her protests; she did. His short auburn hair made him look so much like Robb, Arya smiled the entire day. She only became emotional when it was time to leave her baby brother once again.

Melisandre passed through the keep's renovation and rode south to meet with the dragon queen, and Rickon prepared Arya's horse to ride north. She mussed his hair, and rode off to the wall to help in any way she could.

The wall was larger than the Titan of Braavos, and longer than the narrow sea. Arya had crossed an ocean and seen so many different cultures, but this wall made all the brightly dyed and jeweled things in the world look cheap. The wall was impressive in every sense of the word. Arya thought of how close to home this structure had always been, and of the distant family that had first raised it, and of the family that protected it still.

Arya left her horse in the stables and spotted Sansa and Jon arguing on the upper level of a wooden walkway surrounding the snowy bailey. She rushed to climb the stairs to greet her family, but was stopped by an unfamiliar maester.

"They fight about the war, and have done so for more than a month now. Ive told them- with enemies on all sides, they cannot fight the family at their side. I fear they only listen to themselves." The maester led Arya across the yard, in view of Jon and Sansa. She avoided their grey eyes, and listened to maester. This stranger knew more about her family and North than Arya did now. 

"They only listened to our father growing up. Sansa would listen to our mother, but could lie to her as well. They have both seen battle, now. I cant imagine how that must have changed them." Arya said folloing the maester into the sparsly manned dining hall.

"I cant imagine it changed them much. There was a maester who wrote on a failed southern rebellion, that boys think war makes men. He wrote that death makes children of us all. Your family does not listen to the advice of their counsel, but perhaps they simply need a stronger hand to guide them." The maester eyed Arya sword at her side, and turned to ask the castle cook for bread and wine for them both.

"Have you tried the spiced hot wine, here? There is nothing like it in the south." The maester suddenly changed the subject of converstaion. Arya was slightly confused until she spotted Sansa entering the hall, with jon close behind.

"My father drank it during the colder months, but i havent had it since i was a child." Arya said following the maester's lead. Arya took the proffered cup; she filled her mouth with the warm wine to avoid her sister, who she had missed for nearly half a decade.

"Oh i hate the stuff, the only good thing about King's Landing was the Dornish wine." Sansa feigned a bright attitude, as if Arya had not seen her scowling at their elder brother moments ago.

"Its a learned taste to be sure-" Jon said smiling, feigning the Sansa's same attitude.

"And when did you learn to love it, Jon? Around the same time the two of you learned to lie?" Arya asked smirking, drinking from her cup deeply. The maester stood shocked between a stunned Sansa and Jon. Turning to leave, he touched his Lord Commander lightly on the arm-

"Good luck with your sisters, my Lord." the maester whispered, as he took his leave.

"You'd have better luck lying to a wight than me, Jon." Arya said, biting into her bread and offering it to Sansa, who declined uncomfortably.

Arya led Jon and Sansa to a table, where they could better discuss the logistics of their futures and better plan for war.

"When I rode in, you two hardly noticed." Arya drank from her cup, as a group of rowdy wildlings entered the hall. She lowered her voice as she continued, her siblings frowned at her words but were silent in their admission of guilt.

"Instead you stood above the bailey, too engrossed in some argument. That cant be good for morale, at least for your own." Arya added as she finished her bread.

The wildlings seemed to be arguing as well, but their language always sounded like arguing. A guttural string of vowels, older than the nation they were fighting for. 

"Im sorry. The maester knows, as well. Theres no reason to hide this from you, i just hoped to delay telling you. We've only just been reunited and already I'll be leaving-" Jon offered exaspereated from his fight with Sansa; he dreaded fighting Arya, as well.

"You can go anywhere. These wildings wont follow anyone but you." Arya stated bluntly. Sansa only smiled satisfied and eyed Jon smugly, happy to have someone on her side finally.

"Samwell, a good friend of mine, is training in Oldtown to be a maester at the wall one day; if there is one standing still, by then." Jon pulled off his gloves and removed his cloak, to sit taller at the table.

"He wrote me a few days ago. Hes said that there is a store of dragonglass under Dragonstone." Jon continued.

"Thats good! But anyone can go to Dragonstone to get that, Why you? With an army behind you, you cant just leave your men." Arya replied, draining her cup.

"Theon has written, as well. Him and sister have been invited to Dragonstone by its current leige." Sansa offered carefully.

"I thought Dragonstone was sitting empty. There are no Baratheons left to rule it-" Arya asserted.

"Baratheons didn't always rule Dragonstone. The Targaryen queen from across the sea, has sailed with two armies to hold her birthright." Jon countered to no objection.

"And as newly proclaimed, King in the North, you must meet the queen." Arya finished.

"Exactly! If she truly has dragons, and is willing to stand by our side- we might actually stand a chance against the undead!" Jon offered. Sansa glared at Jon, once again; she turned to avoid his gaze and instead stood to ask the cook for wine.

"Sansa doesnt want me ride that far south, during all of this." Jon murmured eyeing his red haired sister sadly.

"She's right, and so am I." Arya proclaimed. Jon's attention snapped back to the younger fighter, and opened his mouth to argue anew.

"She's right, because if you ride south- you will either die by Lannister hands, or made to forfeit your claim to the north." Arya continued. Jon moved to interrupt again, but Arya was faster.

"How would you travel south? By boat? The shivering sea is frozen solid, now. Everything north of White Harbor is frozen solid. Would you travel on the Kingsroad? It is brimming with killers, and has been since Robert's rebellion." Arya explained. Jon closed his gapping mouth, and listened to his sister.

"You've been north of the wall, and seen ungodly things to be sure. I've seen the south. Sansa has, as well. This is why will fight you on this. You cannot ride south, Jon. You will die. The lone wolf dies, while the pack survives." Arya continued, as Sansa returned simmering to sit on Arya's side of the table.

"Send Sansa and I, to represent the North. Ive traveled the narrow sea, and Sansa saw King's Landing. We lasted the heat of the last southern summer, we can handle the fire and ire of the dragon queen." Arya swore, reaching for Sansa's hand under the table for support; finding it, she continued.

"Send us with a soldier, if you can spare any good ones, but you must stay here. If only for Rickon, and if only to keep you from dying again." Arya ordered. Jon seemily contemplated the offer, and eyed his sisters leveled grey gazes. Arya placed needle on the table, and drank from Sansa's cup.

"If you can beat me in a fair fight. You can go. If not, we'll seen you soon enough." Arya challenged.

"You wont even have time enough to miss us, Jon." Sansa offered.

"I miss you already." Jon remarked sadly, to the softenting of both his sisters determined faces.

"I'll take your challenge, Arya." Jon concluded; unclipping his sword and putting on his gloves, he moved to leave the hall. Sansa grabbed his forgotton cloak, and chugged the last of her wine.

"My money is on you." Sansa said smirking, remembering Arya's water dancing.

"You are smarter than your brother than." Arya replied, sharing the same smirk. Arya grasped Sansa's delicate hand, in her rough one, and her sword in the other.

The girls entered the yard to see a few wilding and brothers fighting, and their own brother speaking to Dolorous Edd on the far side of snowy bailey.

Arya took her small cloak from her shoulders and draped it around Sansa. Sansa's pink nose encouraged Arya to take Jon's cloak from her sister's arms and draped that over Sansa, as well.

"Stay warm, this wont be long." Arya said before turning to fight her brother.

 


	3. Challenger One, Ready! Challenger Two, Standby!

Arya threw Jon to ground a third, forth, and fifth time; drawing a cheering and jeering crowd into the yard.

"This is taking longer than i expected-" Arya muttered, as Jon charged again. She recognized Rickon's style of fighting, that is to say his lack of style. Side-stepping his charge, again, she utilized the larger softer movement of water dancing to avoid Jon, and outlast him for as long possible. It was working; her taller, stronger, and bolder brother was breathing heavily and had lost his valyrian steel sword twice.

Narrowly avoiding a blow to her side, she decided to finish this. Moving in a turning crouch, she ducked under his wide swinging arm, and struck the back of his legs. Standing, as her brother fell, she pressed down hard on his shoulders to keep him kneeling. Keeping needle resting comfortable on his shoulder, a good distance from his neck, she leaned down to whisper to him.

"I will not bend the knee to this queen. And i have never lost an important fight." Arya released him to some cheering, but helped him stand all the same. Jon had never been more embarrased or proud in a single instance.

"Jon! That was terrible! Can i get the next match?" Tormund stepped forward, from the disassembling crowd, smiling wildly.

"Don't act so smug, Tormund; you'd lose, too." Jon breathlessly replied, as Tormund further knocked the wind from him with a clap on the back.

"Arya, this is Tormund Giantsbane. Tormund, this is my youngest sister; Arya Stark" Jon introduced, as Sansa approached with a leather skin of wine. Arya shook his hand firmly, and took the wine from Sansa to avoid further conversation.

Arya was to marry this giant of a man, who had no problem fighting her. A man who could fight a woman, was either as goodhearted as Jon or as evil as Merys Trant.

"Well, we should start preparing to ride south." Sansa offered as an out, sensing Arya's discomfort in they way sister do. Arya nodded, and handed the wineskin to Jon.

"It was good to meet you, Tormund." Arya smiled kindly and shook the man's hand again, noting his cracked hands. 

"It was good to meet you as well, Arya. Im sorry to see you go so soon." Tormund smiled warmly, setting his grey-blue eyes alight.

Arya and Sansa walked off to prepare for a month of hard riding given the bad weather, of late. While Jon led Tormund up into his solar.

"You sending your sisters to wait out the war, then? The one kissed by fire, sure- she's no fighter; but the skinny one? We could do with a fighter like that. If only for training." Tormund moved to turn the fire for Jon, as he had for Mance Rayder.

"They'll come back, both of them. Arya bet on our fight down there, and won her and Sansa an ambassador's position to meet with the dragon queen." Jon said sitting carefully, craddling his side; where Arya had gotten more than a few blows in. 

"That gambling girl did a number on you, then?" Tormund smirked, as he moved to add another log to the flames.

"Emotionally or physically? She told me I'd die if I rode south, and than butchered my pride in front of my army. That girl is the best and strongest parts of her parents." Jon complained reaching for the cold wine on his desk.

"Ah, leave it. Its better warm." Tormund admonished, pouring the wine into a pot and pushing it into the flames.

"What did the thenns and the other clans think of me losing to my sister?" Jon grimaced.

"Ah, they loved her! They called her MAG DAK NAG; a great squirrel!" Tormund jested.

"Do NOT tell her that; she will kill the messenger." Jon laughed.

"Whatd they think of me, losing." Jon asked eyeing Tormund's back. Giantsbane turned, and kept his eyes lowered. He poured Jon, the steaming wine; and replied.

"They miss Mance, Jon. He united so many people, and with the war- they feel they lost their savior." Tormund drank from the hot pot, to stall but continued under Jon's anxious eye.

"Im sorry to say this Jon, because you are my friend; but you're not Mance. And you lost to your sister." Tormund, tried to break the tension by offering a strained smirk.

"Will they follow me?" Jon leveled.

"Aye; they'll follow you for now, as long as you're keeping them safe from the wights. I dont know what they'll think when if comes to fighting them, but they fight on your side for now; i don't know for how long, though." Tormund cautioned.

"Can I ask you to do something _tremendous_ for me?" Jon asked, closing his eyes in anticipation of a refusal.

"Depends if theres anything in it for me-" Tormund offered.

"Will you ride south with my sisters, and marry Arya."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh snap! arya beat Jon's ass in front of his men!! yall got any opinions, tho? hmu, or ill leave u hangin like yall leavin me.


	4. tears and jokes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so tormund and arya flirt i guess? theyre both really violent tho, so its mostly fighting and innuendos. also sansa is gay bc y would she like men at this point, honestly. also brienne tags along bc of the plot, also they run into Nymeria again. Also maybe rogue boltons near the dreadfort? i cant really read maps so this should be fun. They follow the eastern coast of the white knife to White Harbor, sailing to braavos and then Dragonstone. i wrote this here so i dont forget, ignore me.

Brienne barely tried to talk Sansa out of the trip, knowing she was beyond reason at the prospect of spending time with her sister again. Arya walked Brienne through their charted journey, and the stark surprised the the knight with her tactical ability. Sansa was excited to cross the narrow sea like her younger sister had; asking Arya about the Braavosi daily. 

Jon wrote Lord Manderly to receive Sansa and Arya, and see them off safely. Brienne dreaded riding through the ravaged Hornwoods, and seeing what further damage had been done by the Boltons. 

Jon wished his sisters goodbye in his solar, to avoid further ridicule from his men; each Stark present reacted emotionally to the farewell. Jon led Sansa from the solar first, leaving Arya to compose herself; surprising her siblings by being the most emotional.

No one knew too much of Arya's experience in Braavos, and that she would be fearing for her life the two days they would spend there. Her abandoning of the faceless men, and her stealing of their secrets; hardly left her on good terms with the world's deadliest assassins. She only could only hope, they had more important people to kill, and resigned herself to stealing another face and life from the god of death; to prevent her own end.

Arya pulled needle halfway from its sheath, and watch the metal shine brightly.

"It was worth it." Arya murmured, if only to see her family again; all the death she had caused and seen will have been worth it.

Arya rubbed at her tear streaked face roughly, and turned to leave Jon's solar. Tormund opened the door, startling her, and leaving them standing in the rush of icy air. Arya's arm had been outstretched to open the door herself, and now her hand reached for the wildling where he stood in the timber's place. She withdrew her hand slowly, and stepped back to better look at him.

"Jon's said the weathers too bad to ride in, and that we'll leave when it clears up a bit-" Tormund offered, closing the door behind him. Tormund uncomfortably avoided eye contact, not knowing what Jon may have told her, or asked her.

"The weather is always shit in the winter. If we wanted good traveling weather we should have left a year ago." Arya pointed out, exasperated with Jon's stalling.

"Aye, i told him we celebrate this as summer weather, north of the wall. A little snow, is not reason not to ride." Tormund claimed, grinning.

"How often have you made that joke?" Arya wondered aloud.

"Its that funny, then?" Tormund questioned, while Arya grabbed a leather buckled bag from Jon's desk.

"Open the door, Giantsbane." Arya dismissed. Tormund opened the timber door and held it still in the harsh wind; forcing Arya to walk under his outstretched arm. Ayra scowled and walked under his fur clad limb, without hinderance, or ducking.

Arya convinced Jon to let his sisters go, with minimal pouting on Jon's part and minimal teasing on Tormund's. Sansa was distancing her self emotionally before they'd even begun to put any real distance behind them. Arya watched her sister, as she prepared her horse with Brienne silently.

Arya fixed her last bag to her horse while Jon hovered on the beast's other side, playing with buckles Arya knew were secure. Unless Jon was now intentionally sabotaging her, by loosening buckles; Jon was still stalling.

"Jon. I love you, and I've missed you, and I'll miss you; but we have to leave if we hope to actually see the Targaryen." Arya lamented, rounding her horse to see every buckle on Jon's side undone.

"This is the most childish thing you have ever done, you realize that?" Arya breathed, setting about fixing Jon's obstruction of departure. Jon moved to stand on the opposite side of Arya's horse while she was distracted once again.

"Oh no you don't, Jon. Ive already finished. I'll see you in a month, or so." Arya said mounting her horse in one quick motion. Jon smiled sadly, and led her horse to the gate where her party waited. Jon climbed a wooden post to kiss Arya and Sansa on the cheek one last time before waving his sisters off.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> write what your mad about for real, im running out of content and anger. will be renewed this weekend tho.


	5. Brienne is probably gay imo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come on, it's lovely weather  
> For a sleigh ride together with you.
> 
> Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up,  
> Let's go  
> let's look at the show,  
> We're riding  
> in a wonderland of snow.

The weather was worse than anyone in their party let on. Sansa was so laden with furs she looked the size of her horse, riding a horse. Arya had lost all form and moved with all the grace of a mammoth. Tormund Giantsbane, looked every bit the giant he was said to be; and Brienne ironically had the most maneuverability in her full suit of armor, kept warmer by her layers of leather, fur, and metal.

Arya trailed behind Sansa, to strategize with Brienne who brought up the rear of their train.

"We should ride for Last Hearth. Little Ned Umber will receive us." Arya roared over the wind.

"Did you write him?" Brienne asked loudly, snow and frost highlighting the delicate design of her armor.

"No." Arya replied briefly, moving on to Sansa to share the change of plans.

"We're gonna ride for Last Heath, instead." Arya shouted to the bundle of furs and frozen red hair that is her sister.

"What!?" Sansa screamed back, turing her entire restricted torso to see the screaming lump that is Arya.

"WE'RE GOING TO LAST HEARTH, INSTEAD!" Arya bellowed again to Sansa.

"OH! Okay!" Sansa turned forward again, with no protest. Sansa turned again to Arya asking-

"Did you tell Tormund? He's leading!" Sansa asked pointing to the largest of their party.

"No!" Arya returned, riding quickly to catch up with Tormund finally.

"Tormund!" Arya yelled to man they used as a wind breaker, by putting him on point. Giantsbane was the most covered in snow, the white frost clinging to his wild hair and beard.

"Aye, Arya!" Tormund bellowed back clearly, not bothering to lose heat by turning to look at her.

"We have to ride for Last Hearth, instead!" Arya shouted again, snow flying into her eyes and mouth as she tried to speak. Arya hadn't realized how much windy snow Tormund was protecting the party from, as the lead.

"Would you be upset, if i told you Jon already has me heading that way?" Tormund tried to gauge Arya's reaction from the corner of his eye.

"I'd be grateful! Jon's used to being right, it'd be nothing new!" Arya joked.

"I can hardly hear you! You're screaming, though- i can tell! Come closer!" Tormund returned grinning. Arya not understanding Tormund's plot, she moved her horse next to his to better hear each other. Tormund shifted and plopped half his furs over them both.

"You were as big as a mountain under your furs, but I've never seen a mountain shiver so much." Tormund said at normal volume, the wind quieter at this breadths distance.

"I didnt even realize-" Arya marveled at her hands slowed shaking where they gripped her reins.

"Are we close to Last Hearth, then? If that was always your plan?" Arya asked, her shaking slowed considerably.

"Aye, we've followed the valleys so it should be just ahead." Tormund stared distantly, looking for the a glimpse of the keep.

Arya didn't remember falling asleep, but woke up to the gentle back forth motion of horseback riding. Arya looked back towards Sansa, bleary eyed; in the biting cold. Brienne had taken Sansa under cloak for warmth and they looked like some strange lumbering creature with eight legs and four faces. Arya turned to look up at Tormund who held her upright, as he stared ahead covered in snow. Arya's horse stayed on task as Tormund had one hand tight around their reins, and his other arm tight around Arya's middle, limiting her motion and preventing her from falling.

"Im awake, sorry." Arya said, trying to back away from the smell of her own breath.

"Ah, thats too bad. I think we're warmer when you're sleeping." Tormund removed his arm from her waist, and replaced her reins in her hands. Arya made no move to leave the warmth of Tormund's furs.

"How much further, do you think?" Arya asked wiping the snow from her face and dusting it from her saddle. She hesitated with the snow in her hands, and decided to eat it to break up her sleepy breath.

"It should be close. We passed some Umber hunters not too long ago." Tormund watched Arya eating snow, with a grin.

"You'll make yourself colder that way, y'know" Tormund offered, brushing the snow from his own beard and eating it as well.

"Its worth it just to taste something" Arya replied, checking her horses wool covers.

"I've got wine, y'know" Tormund admitted, reaching for the skin under his cloak.

"So you just prefer snow then?" Arya joked, reaching for the skin with pink fingers.

"I'd prefer the wine hot, is all." Tormund reasoned.

"Anything hot is better, right now." Arya affirmed, grimacing at the taste of cold spiced wine.

"Is that stone thing a mountain or a home?" Tormund nodded ahead.

"That's Last Hearth." Arya answered, removing herself from Tormund's furs, to ride back and tell Brienne and Sansa. Arya found her sister asleep against Brienne in very much the same manner, she herself had been in.

"Last Hearth is just ahead. We should wake her and ride hard for the keep; we wont last much longer out here." Arya offered, reaching for Sansa's arm.

"I am awake." Sansa shifted out of Brienne's embrace, taking her reins.

"Tormund will lead until we reach the gate, than Sansa and I will call for the gatekeepers." Arya called out as she turned to follow Tormund at a racing speed. They made good time, and didn't stop shivering until little Ned had given them rooms with great fires. Sansa and Arya were given their own, but fell asleep on Brienne's hearth carpet; where the knight sharpened her sword, and hung up her armor to dry.

Arya dreamed of forests and wolves, as she always had. Arya was running with dirt at her bare feet through the Oldstones. She saw men in rusted Botlon armor that reeked of blood, and cursed the light slow snow loudly. The landscape quickly changed and Arya stood in a blizzard on her own two feet, while a shambling mass of bodies approached her. The winter wind was silent when it should have roared, and the air tasted uncomfortably warm; she suddenly woke with a start.

Brienne had changed and moved to sleep in her bed; while Sansa had seemingly gone to her own bed, some time ago. Arya moved quietly into the hall to find her rooms, in the dim torchlit hall. She wandered in the dark, feeling for room's doors. A softly singing voice distracted her from her search, and she turned to follow it. Arya knocked on the singer's door, prepared to tell the performer to quiet himself in the night. Arya was shocked to see Tormund open the door in his strange patchwork of furs, while his open window let flurries in.

"Were you singing?" Arya asked, and Tormund looked more shocked and surprised than Arya felt.

"Aye; not well, im sure. Why are you awake so late?" Tormund tried shifting the focus.

"I fell asleep in the wrong room." Arya stated easily. Tormund smirked, and shifted his weight to make the doorway bigger.

"Brienne's room. Dont smirk like that, i was using her whetstone." Arya defended, eyeing the fire in his room, and the laughter in his eyes.

"I dont imagine many swords were sharpened-" Tormund began grinning.

"Are you testing my metal? Did Jon not complain of his injuries? I assure you, there were many." Arya warned.

"I did ask to spar against you-" Tormund recalled.

"What were you singing?" Arya interupted

"I wont sing in the hall." Tormund smirked, opening the door wider.

"i brought your wineskin back." Arya raised the item above her head as she walked through the door, to sit in front of the fire.

"Maybe I will sing you a song then." Tormund laughed. Arya poured the wine into a pot and set it to heat.

"I dont know how to heat this. You should watch it, i'd let it boil." Arya pulled off her furs and made a bed of them near the hearth. Arya lay in them as Tormund stirred the wine and stoked the flames that warmed them.

"Can I ask you something?" Arya propsed closing her eyes, to hide her meaning.

"Aye, but i have few answers myself for most things." Tormund replied, standing to grab a bronze cup from his things. The cup was uneven in color but intricate in design; evenly spaced runes decorated its entire surface.

"Have you spoken to Jon, lately?" Arya requested, without opening her eyes. Tormund hesitated in removing the pot from the fire, and eyed Arya's composure.

"Not since we left the Wall, no." Tormund replied lightly, pouring wine into the cup as he answered. Arya's eyes shot open to send an annoyed look his way. Tormund offered the cup to her as a peace offering, and drank from the pot to avoid conversation. Arya sat back up and took the cup; she stared at it, carefully considering the drink and the man in front of her.

"Of course; but _before_ we left, Jon asked me if would marry to bring more soldiers to the wall." Arya remarked. Jon had asked her in Winterfell, but Arya would rather the wilding not know she'd been considering marriage for a month.

"Aye, he uh- he asked me about that. Did Jon tell you how marriage works for the free folk." Tormund said swirling his pot of wine.

"Only that your people will respect your choice." Arya answered, tilting the pot in Tormund's hand to pour herself more.

"Men are supposed to steal their wives beyond the wall. If a women can fight a man off, she doesn't have to marry him. My daughter was stolen and married the man that stole her. I stole her mother and have been married before." Tormund spoke to the flames, unsure of Arya's reaction.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone is lowkey gay imo


	6. Little Ned is my favorite character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's grand... just holding your hand,  
> We're riding along with a song  
> Of a wintry fairy land.

uh some singing  
maybe a bar song or two?  
tormund wants little ned to marry his youngest daughter bc  
little ned like sansa and arya and tormund   
but only bc little ned misses the smalljon and greatjon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just outling rn

**Author's Note:**

> if u too r mad abt stuff in the show, comment and ill add stuff in- imma fight all the pale assed writers  
> (btw all the dornish women are blacker than black in this- not that half white stuff in the show)


End file.
